


Filthy DRV3 Drabbles

by FilthyHoshi (DanganMatsus)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Anal Sex, Clubbing, Farting, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overstimulation, Rantaro is a rich bitch with a passion for getting dicked down, Rimming, Scent Kink, Strippers & Strip Clubs, references to drugs and alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-11 19:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanganMatsus/pseuds/FilthyHoshi
Summary: A collection of short, disgusting, filthy DRV3 based drabbles. A stinky, musky, sweaty, dirty mess.Be sure to drop a request if you want!





	1. Hoshi/Korekiyo - Rimming, Farts

Korekiyo Shinguji and Ryoma Hoshi had always had a somewhat friends-with-benefits styled relationship.

It started out simple, with just an occasional handjob, then it escalated into a couple of blowjobs now and then. Then that escalated into at least one blowjob per visit, with almost all their sleepovers ending in at least one of them slobbering over the other's cock. Ultimately, their friendship culminated in Korekiyo bending Ryoma over the couch and pounding his hole senseless at least once every time they hung out together, Ryoma unable to remember a time when he didn't go home nearly every day with an ass full of Korekiyo's spunk. 

Today though, things were a bit different.

"Shinguji?"

The anthropologist in question was currently bent over, face shoved in between Ryoma's sweaty crack as the tennis player leaned over the couch, breathing ragged as Korekiyo swiped at his hole with a curious tongue, tasting the shorter man's natural essence as his tongue poked into Ryoma's asshole. The musk wafting from Ryoma's rear was intoxicating to Korekiyo, who sniffed in as deeply as possible as his tongue continued to probe Ryoma's anus. Ryoma whimpered, gripping the sides of the couch as he was rimmed, Korekiyo's tongue dancing against his hole as he squirmed on the couch, feeling saliva drenching his asshole as Korekiyo licked away. 

"Yes, Hoshi?" Korekiyo briefly paused to respond, before diving back into the shorter man's asshole, tongue lapping away at the tennis player's anus.

"What the fuck are we doing?" Ryoma chuckled, bringing a hand to his forehead as he shook his head with disbelief.

Korekiyo didn't reply, instead responding by shoving his tongue even deeper into Ryoma's rectum, drawing a stuttering moan out of the shorter man, who squirmed and thrashed on the couch as his hole was expertly pleasured. His cock twitched, a bead of cum leaking from the tip. He was close.

He wasn't sure how it happened, all Ryoma knew was that one second he could feel a sudden pressure against the inside of his asshole, and the next second he was moaning softly as a long, loud fart trumpeted out of him. The short man froze, his face flashing from pleasure to horror in an instant, his breath catching in his throat. Clapping his hands over his face, Ryoma lay in shame for what seemed like an eternity.

"....Do it again."

Ryoma blinked. He must have misheard that.

"What?"

"You heard me right." Korekiyo stated, almost as if he had read the tennis player's mind. "Do it again."

Ryoma lay in silence for a moment, before deciding that he might as well take Korekiyo up on his offer. Taking a deep breath, he moaned as another, deeper fart slipped from his hole, coating Korekiyo in the putrid gas. Korekiyo sniffed deeply, taking in the vile stench of Ryoma's gas, each breath of deadly fumes like an intoxicating delight to the anthropologist, who inhaled the gas without a care in the world.

Panting, Ryoma released another blast of noxious fumes, the stench burning Korekiyo's nostrils and making his eyes water. Gripping the shorter man's asscheeks, resulting in a yelp from Ryoma, Korekiyo shoved his nose against Ryoma's asshole, snorting in the fumes as he reached around, begin to stroke Ryoma's erection. Gripping the couch tighter, Ryoma whimpered as his ass released another ripe fart, the nauseating stench of moldy cheese and rotten eggs filling the small room. Taking a quick huff, Ryoma winced at the ripe scent, bringing a hand up to cover his nose. How on earth had Korekiyo not passed out yet?

Ryoma's thoughts were interrupted by a loud moan as he was struck with climax, cum spurting from the tip of his cock as he came hard, his legs shaking as he involuntarily released another barrage of smaller, warmer farts directly into Korekiyo's nostrils. 

As Korekiyo continued to huff Ryoma's gas, the shorter man had one thought left in his post-orgasm stupor, his legs still trembling as he released another, much louder, much stronger burst of noxious gas.

Korekiyo could sure handle a lot of methane.


	2. Korekiyo/Rantaro - Overstimulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not as proud of this one. Hope you all enjoy it more than I do.

Looking at Rantaro Amami, the classic stereotypical rich boy, most people would assume he was quite vanilla. Raised to a wealthy family, he spent his days in the lap of luxury, drinking champagne and eating lobster for dinner. Mornings would be spent lounging in expensive silk bed sheets, and afternoons would be spent going for trips on a yacht around the nearby sea.

It was late at night, when everyone was shut safely within their homes, lights off and doors locked, that Rantaro really came alive.

Clubs, drugs, strippers, drinking, and fucking. It was when all the sinful pleasures of Tokyo really came to light, and it was where Rantaro truly thrived. It gave him an excuse to finally let loose, to let the real him shine, to commit acts that wouldn't be out of place in a music video from The Prodigy. Barely a day went by where Rantaro didn't return home either drunk, high, or both, usually with some hot chick or some blonde twink. 

Rantaro wandered through the club, stepping over passed out patrons and dodging kicked over seats as he went, music pumping in his ears. The smell of sex was palatable, and as Rantaro made his way over to the bar, the stench of alcohol soon overpowered it. There, sitting at the bar, a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand, was Rantaro's good friend Korekiyo Shinguji. The two had met one blustery night, having both just left the same club, and they hit it off immediately. Korekiyo Shinguji was an anthropologist, a cultured man who spent his days touring all the world's hotspots. 

Though most of his time in those hotspots was spent checking out the latest clubs and illicit warehouse parties.

“Hey Shinguji, surprised to see you here!” Rantaro chuckled, taking a seat next to his friend. The smell of booze was thick, and as the greasy bartender approached Rantaro, the rich boy could instantly tell that the man was about as drugged up as someone could get without passing out. 

“What ya want?”

Rantaro opened his mouth to respond.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The bartender turned to look at Korekiyo, eyebrow raised.

“I would like to order one Blazing Dragon for my dearest friend.”

With a bemused expression, the bartender turned to the drinks and got to work. Rantaro turned to Korekiyo, surprise in his expression. 

“What?” The anthropologist giggled. “Are you about to turn down a free drink?”

Rantaro smirked.

“Now why would I do that?”

The duo continued to chat for the next while. As the clock circled from 11 pm to 1 am, the music pumping ever louder with each passing hour, Rantaro felt himself grow more and more delirious with the alcohol in his veins. As he downed his fourth Blazing Dragon, he turned to his friend Korekiyo, who was on his second bottle of scotch.

“Shinguji?” He mumbled.

“Yes, Amami?”

“Will you just fuck me?”

Korekiyo tensed up, his expression unreadable. Rantaro just giggled, staring at his friend as the words turned like cogs in his head. After a minute's hesitation, Korekiyo stood up.

“Follow me.”

Without a word, he disappeared into the crowd, Rantaro only waiting a second before leaping up to join him. They weaved through drunken middle aged men and rowdy young women, darting around upturned stools and dodging puddles of alcohol and vomit. Coming to a stop outside the door into the area charmingly nicknamed The Basement, Rantaro and Korekiyo listened intently to the noises coming from within. Moans, grunts, and the sounds of skin slapping against skin harmonized with pumping hardcore techno music, creating an atmosphere that was as arousing as it was nauseating. Taking a deep breath, Korekiyo opened the door and stepped inside.

Tables and chairs were scattered around on the floor, dark purple walls splattered with all sorts of bodily fluids towering high among the many couches and writhing, sweating bodies. The scent of musk was thick, almost painfully so, and Rantaro felt himself grow lightheaded at the unmistakable sight of cum stains soaking into the rich purple carpet. He was shocked out of his stupor by the feeling of Korekiyo gripping his arm, the anthropologist gracefully guiding Rantaro over to the last remaining unoccupied couch. It stunk of cum, sweat, musk and piss, yet the smell only added to the intense arousal Rantaro was experiencing. 

Turning to glance at Korekiyo, he saw the anthropologist was removing his clothes, and decided it was in his best interest to do the same. Unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the floor, Rantaro slowly pulled down his pants and underwear, revealing his already hard cock. Then, ever so gently, he pulled off his shirt, revealing his lanky, pale rich boy body. Letting his gaze fall down to Korekiyo's crotch, Rantaro's breath caught in his throat. The taller man's shaft was easily at least eight inches long, dwarfing Rantaro's six incher. Turning to Rantaro, Korekiyo grinned.

“Ready?”

Without another word, they were upon each other, clothes discarded in a sweaty pile as they mashed their mouths together, tongues lashing against each other as they made out, collapsing to the musky old couch, which creaked underneath their combined weight.

Gripping Rantaro's cock, Korekiyo smirked as he began to jerk it off, a bead of precum already gleaming on the tip. Rantaro quivered, moaning quietly as his cock was stroked, thrusting up and feeling his breath catch in his throat as he was rewarded with the flick of a tongue against the tip. Hand stroking up and down Rantaro's shaft, Korekiyo swirled his tongue around the tip, tasting the salty precum. Deciding that he had teased Rantaro enough, Korekiyo moved up so that his cock was pressed against Rantaro's asshole. Rantaro shivered, his hands shaking as he tried to steady himself on the couch. He had only bottomed a couple of times before, and never with a cock as big as Korekiyo's. With a heave, Korekiyo forced his cock up Rantaro's ass, the walls stretching around his shaft.

Rantaro froze, feeling Korekiyo's shaft spreading his hole. A strangled moan escaped his lips as pale hands gripped at the sides of the couch, feeling Korekiyo pumping in and out of him. Positioning himself, Korekiyo thrust forward against Rantaro's prostate, smacking into the little bundle of nerves again and again, sending bolts of pleasure down Rantaro's spine. Every thrust sent the boy just a little bit deeper into heaven, every push and press against his prostate feeling like a hammer to the sensitive nerves. 

Opening his mouth to speak, Rantaro froze up as his first climax wracked his body, strands of cum shooting from his cock as he came for the first time that day. His ass tensed around Korekiyo's cock, muscles clenching as he orgasmed. It was quite apparent that the teasing beforehand had brought the boy close to climax, judging by the orgasm currently surging through him.

Yet Korekiyo didn't stop.

He continued to thrust into the boy, slamming into his prostate again and again, sending bolts of pleasure through the boy so strong they were almost painful. His ass ached from the sheer force of Korekiyo's thrusts, the constant fucking rubbing him raw. Rantaro squirmed, far too overstimulated, his legs shaking as Korekiyo pounded him all the way through his orgasm. With every thrust, the intensity grew, until Rantaro was twitching with every deep stroke into him, a mix of pain and euphoria from the overstimulation rocking throughout his body.

As his second climax slammed into him only a matter of minutes after the first, one thought remained in Rantaro's otherwise hazed brain, his entire body spasming and jolting as he came for the second time that day.

He was going to be here for a while.


End file.
